


A Bitter Crop

by SilverShadow1711



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Backstory, But only for this story, Gen, I portray Hoshidans as dicks, Massacres, Not super graphic but I don't wanna trigger anyone, OCs - Freeform, just saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 11:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11508093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverShadow1711/pseuds/SilverShadow1711
Summary: "Scent of magnolia, sweet and fresh. Then, the sudden smell of burning flesh..."Something happened to Kouga. It used to exist outside of memories...





	A Bitter Crop

Title- A Bitter Crop  
A/N- This fits into my “The Road Not Trekked” series, but can definitely be read as a stand alone. Just... if you wonder why I portray Sumeragi as a bastard, that's why.

000000000000  
“ _Here's a fruit for the crows to pluck. For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck...”_  
000000000000

A land of beauty. Of happiness and laughter. Despite being the residence of many of Hoshido's killers for hire, the province of Kouga seemed an idyllic paradise. The gods blessed them, with sweeping lands that were fruitful enough to provide for the Kougans themselves as well as those less fortunate villages outlying them. The Ashyura clan's patriarch was the daimyo, a kindly man, his generosity only matched by his honor. For generations, they had served the royal family of Hoshido directly, gathering intel during the many wars that plagued the continent, dealing with insurgents and malcontented nobles who would dare whisper about coups. Perhaps it was not the most sterling history, but they provided a service that was sorely needed, especially when the Nohrians crept ever closer to the border. There were already rumors milling about that the war faring kingdom may well seize victory- shameful in and of itself, but downright treasonous when the talk led to certain daimyos whispering about throwing their lot in with the Nohrians. One such province was Mokushuu, a small prefecture to the north of Kouga.

There had been rumors about a violent coup transpiring a few months back, but given that it too was home to legions of trained shinobi, there was not much solid information that could be gathered. Ashyura scowled as he looked over the scroll brought to him by Emperor Sumeragi's right hand man. The fourth Saizou had never been one for pleasantries, but even by his standards, his face had been grim as he delivered his lord's message. The royal army had no soldiers to spare for an outlying province. With the Nohrians drawing closer by the day, all available troops had to be sent to the border at the chasm or else, remain close to the capital. The shinobi sighed deeply, letting the paper fall to his lap and tangling his hands in his unruly white hair. Rumors... maybe that was all it was. Maybe there was no power hungry despot taking charge in the neighboring prefecture- maybe the armed ninja that had been caught breaking into his palace was simply a rouge who answered to no master. The sound of quiet foot falls behind him caused the daimyo to stiffen, though a badly muffled giggle set him at ease again. Well trained in the art of stealth, it was nigh impossible to catch him unawares, yet he set about rolling the scroll back up as though he heard nothing, unable to stop the grin from tugging at his lips as the pitter patter of little feet drew closer.

“SNEAK ATTACK!!” Ashyura barely flinched as a small mass tackled him from behind, though he smiled wider. Twisting slightly, he grabbed the bundle and pulled it onto his lap. A young boy, no older than ten, beamed up at him, his fluffy white curls mimicking his father's, though at his crown, a small tuft of brunette locks clashed against them. In Kouga, perhaps because it was rare but not unheard of, it was always seen as good luck for a child to be born with different colored patches of hair. “I got you, Otou-sama!” The boy declared proudly, and the older man chuckled affectionately, ruffling his already unruly hair.

“That you did, Seiichi-kun. That you did. But do not grow complacent in your training; one day, you will face opponents far stronger than this senile old man...” At once, the boy's face grew serious.  
“I know, Otou-sama. I will do everything I can to uphold our family's legacy.”  
“I know you will, my son.” Despite his clear intent to be seen as mature, the boy was still young, and his attention wandered quickly, settling on the half unwrapped scroll. At once, he snatched it up, undoing all his father's efforts as it unrolled in his lap.

“Ooh, what's this?”  
“Well, what does it look like?” Seiichi frowned, deep in thought, as he scanned the meticulous calligraphy. His eyes settled on a seal in the lower left hand corner.  
“That's the royal seal! Is this from the emperor?”  
“It is.” The boys eyes widened, alight at the prospect of what amazing things his father could be discussing with the emperor of Hoshido.

“Are you going on a mission? Are you going to recover a priceless artifact? Or—or sneak into Nohr to spy on the king?” Ashyura sighed once more; if only it were something that simple...  
“I'm afraid not, Seiichi-kun. Sumeragi-sama has denied my request for additional soldiers to help patrol our borders.” The boy frowned again for a moment, before his beaming smile came back.  
“We don't need them. Kougan shinobi are the strongest ninja in the world. We don't need anybody's help- no Nohrians will bother us!” As much as the older man delighted in his son's pride for his country, his heart sank.  
“That may be true, but I fear it is not the Nohrians that we need to worry about...”  
000

Once was simply unlucky. Twice was a terrible coincidence. But after the third Mokushuujin shinobi had been apprehended within Kouga's palace, it was clear that these were ninja on a mission. A deadly mission, judging by the sheer amount of poison they carried on their person. Ashyura ordered they be interrogated, but they all had a contingency plan for such an occasion, and twice he personally watched them die slowly and painfully from the poison they kept between their teeth and cheek rather than give up their secrets. They must not have been very well trained, the daimyo concluded. An experienced ninja, while prepared to die if the worst came to pass, had endured enough rounds of torture to have developed at least a middling tolerance to the pain. His wife, a skilled kunoichi herself, had scoffed as she searched their quickly cooling corpses for clues as to who exactly their target had been.

“Who sends journeymen on a hit? It's shameful.”  
“It's desperate.” The older man seethed. This was growing worrisome. He had always had a cordial relationship with Tokegero-sama, the daimyo of Mokushuu. Their borders had always been calm, their people friendly and free to come and go from the provinces as they pleased. Even if-- even if the worst had happened, there was no point in whoever had assumed power to be so aggressive. If they needed something, be it food, resources, or manpower, all they had to do was ask.

The scuttlebutt creeping through the Hoshidan countryside came back to his mind, the thought of Hoshidans willfully turning on their people to help Nohr secure a victory too wretched a thought to even entertain, and yet... Shutting his eyes tightly, Ashyura turned away from the body, walking over to the shoji doors and sliding them open. Seiichi was in the next room, donning his training gi, a kunai clutched in his hand. One of his instructors was showing him the proper follow through for a strike. The older man's grip tightened on the door frame. Yes, he was well aware there was a war going on, but surely a handful of soldiers could be spared, if only to make a statement. He would write to the emperor again.  
000

_Ashyura-san_

_If we had soldiers to spare, I would send a battalion of troops to your aid. But with the Nohrians encroaching on our territory, we must not be seen as wavering. We have already caused them serious losses, and soon, they will be on the run. Hoshido is greater than the sum of it's parts, and the good of Hoshido must be put before all else._

Yes, the good of Hoshido, Hoshido's glory... not her people. Ashyura's fist clenched around the parchment, crumpling the emperor's words. With every passing day, Mokushuu seemed to be closing itself off further from Kouga, no longer allowing trade between their citizens, even going as far as to bar their gates to outsiders. The only Mokushuujin found outside their borders were the would-be assassins. One such foul miscreation had actually made it into Seiichi's room, the boy's desperate flailing and blood curdling scream the only things that kept his throat from being slit. An influx of Kougan journeymen had arrived at the palace the next day, eager to put their new skills to use protecting their ruling family. He was touched by their dedication, especially considering that they had their own families that were growing more concerned by the day, and accepted them to the guard assigned to watch his family at once. Hoshido could not waver, Sumeragi said. He would not waver, either. This was not a personal favor he was asking for. All he did was for the good of his people, the good of Kouga.  
000

Seiichi had had trouble sleeping since that night when he'd awoken to find the Mokushuujin standing over him, her kunai glinting in the moonlight. Fear had paralyzed him until the blade came crashing down, ready to gut him like a fish. He had screamed and thrashed, putting up enough of a fight to keep her weapon at bay long enough for his parents to come in. He remembered watching his mother move with such precision and power, pulling out her own kunai and driving it deep into the other woman's back as she tried to flee. His father, the daimyo, was at his side at once, inspecting him for injuries, asking again and again, was he alright, was he hurt? Seiichi had been training to follow in his parent's footsteps since he was a small child, confident that he could soon take on missions and bring honor to their family's illustrious legacy. His father's warning came back to his mind, _One day, you will face opponents far stronger than this senile old man..._

In his eyes, his father was the strongest person in the world, rivaled only by his mother. If he could sneak up on the the renowned daimyo of Kouga, surely he would be able to take on anyone. His childish arrogance died that night, as he realized that, in an actual life or death situation, he had not even been able to grab the blade that rested right beside his head. He hated being so weak. He hated seeing the fear in his parents eyes, and knowing that the influx of additional guards was because of him. Every time he heard the words “Mokushuu” or “assassin” as he walked through the halls of his home, his stomach dropped.

Surely, they were all talking about him, and how shameful it had been that he couldn't even protect himself. Although, in the back of his head, the young boy found himself wondering why Mokushuu was being so problematic in the first place. He had visited the neighboring province once with his parents, had met Tokegero-sama. He had been friendly. Sometimes, he heard people mention the world “coup”, but he didn't know what it meant, only that it was something that wasn't supposed to happen. Kouga didn't seem like such a happy place anymore. Children no longer ran through the streets laughing, their parents keeping them glued to their side at all times. People did not stop and chat on the corners, keeping their heads down as their eyes shifted back and forth, ever on the watch for threats that might be lurking in the shadows. No one spoke of Nohr anymore; the only word on anyone's lips now was Mokushuu.  
000

Despite being very tired, Seiichi found it hard to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, a chill would creep up his spine as the thought of someone standing over him permeated his thoughts and refused to go away until he opened them once more. That was probably why the first scream had caused him to bolt upright. It had faint, well off in the distance, but enough to pierce through the night air. For a moment after it died off, silence descended on Kouga once more... before it was shattered permanently by a chorus of shrieks. Throwing his covers off, the young boy scrambled to his feet, fear gripping him as he ran towards his parent's room. He nearly collided with his father, who was already up and fully dressed, a kodachi gripped tightly in his hand.

“Otou-sama, did you hear that?!”  
“I did, Seiichi-kun.” His mother, pulling a haori over her kosode, appeared from the room, her hair undone and eyes wide with fear.  
“It's the Mokushuujin.” She whispered hoarsely, turning to face her husband directly. “I will gather our soldiers- you stay with Seiichi--”

“No.” The daimyo said firmly, his voice brokering no room for refusal. “I will not hide whilst my people face those-- those-- _savages_... Megumi, you stay with Seiichi. I trust no one so much as you.” For a moment, it looked as though she might argue, but at once, her expression became resolute, and she nodded curtly. Inhaling deeply, Ashyura knelt down so as to meet his son's eyes.  
“Seiichi... should anything happen to me, _you_ will be the daimyo of Kouga.”  
“Otou-sama, _no!!_ I don't _want_ to be the daimyo- I don't _want_ anything to happen to you--!!” His plaintive wailing was cut short by the heavy hands resting on his shoulders. Sniffling, and trying to blink away the tears stinging his eyes, the boy fell silent as his father spoke with the firmness of a lord giving orders.

“Seiichi. This is not about what we want; it is about what must be done. I have no intention of dying before my time, but as the heir of Kouga, you must be prepared to carry on our family's legacy. You must be strong, and brave, and always do what is right for your people.” The older man's gaze softened, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the top of his son's head. “I always have been, and always will be, proud of you, my son. Never forget that.” Lingering for but a moment longer, the daimyo got to his feet, exchanging one last meaningful look with his wife before taking off down the hall where a group of ninja were gathering. As one, they disappeared into the darkness. Seiichi wanted to take off after his father, but a warm hand closed over his own and squeezed it tightly, drawing his attention back up to his mother.

“Come, Seiichi-kun. We must not linger here.” Sniffling, he wiped his eyes on his sleeve and nodded. He clutched tightly to his mother's hand as they ran, wishing he was faster so that she wouldn't have to go so slowly so as to let him keep up.  
“Wh-where are we going, Okaa-sama?” He panted as they made their way through the winding, maze-like corridors of the palace. On his own, Seiichi would've gotten lost amidst the false doors and trap rooms, but his mother clearly knew exactly where she was leading them.  
“We must got to Shirasagi. Kouga has been at the beck and call of the royal family for decades; Sumeragi-sama will help us. He has to help us...” She added, more to herself than him.

There were many secret paths leading to and from the palace, some that even Seiichi hadn't known existed. It was through one of those previously unknown routes that they made their way out to the back of the palace. It was late spring, and the royal garden was abloom with cherry blossoms. Normally, their sweet scent would have perfumed the air, but that night, the only thing he could smell was smoke. And blood. The sky was red, hazy with thick smoke that billowed from the roofs of homes and shops that had been set aflame. Screams that had been muffled within the palace suddenly became clear, sharp and piercing, punctuated with mocking laughter. Completely disoriented by the assault on his senses, Seiichi would've remained where he was for gods knew how long had his mother not pulled him along, half dragging him as she made her way out of the palace garden, keeping to the shadows of the high wall that surrounded their property. Stepping out into the streets of Kouga was akin to stepping into Hell itself.

Seiichi had heard of what battlefields looked like, but he never dreamed he would see one where his home once was. Flames engulfed everything, rising high like pillars and making the air shimmer as embers floated like fireflies. People ran, carrying whatever they could- valuables, weapons, their pets and children. All around, the Mokushuujin shinobi set upon anyone unlucky enough to cross their path. Their earthen gis appearing black in the over-saturated light, they looked like demons as they threw themselves upon fleeing families, slitting throats and bellies, stomping on those that fell until their writhing stopped. Seiichi stared, frozen with fear, as the ninja-- no, calling them ninja was too good a privilege for such monsters- the _demons_ descended on Yuiko-san, the tailor's daughter who had just gotten married a few months hence. They threw her to the ground, her pretty face awash with tears as she tried to fend off their vicious blows. They beat her mercilessly, aiming most of their attacks at her swollen belly- he remembered his mother saying that she was going to have a child soon. Others tore off their victims clothes, clawing at their exposed genitals as they lowered their own hakama and rutted against them like feral dogs. He didn't know what was happening, only that it was horrible and disgusting and frightening. A sharp tug on his hand was the only thing that pulled his eyes away from the sight.

“Don't look, Seiichi-kun, just run!” His mother's advice was not so easy to heed, for even as he ran, he could not ignore the sight of people, people he used to pass by on the street, sprawled out with their limbs hacked off and guts strewn about them. The Kougan shinobi attempted to drive them back, hurling shuriken and slashing at the invaders with their own kunai and katana, but they were sorely outnumbered. For every Mokushuujin that fell, they paid the Kougan back tenfold. A sudden gasp from beside him was all the warning he got before a shadow descended on them. Seiichi's mother pushed him behind her, adopting a defensive stance as the dark figure before them drew nearer. It was a man, older than him but much younger than his father. His tawny hair was coming loose from the high tail it had been tied in, his face smeared liberally with blood. A manic gleam shone in his otherwise dark eyes as he bared his teeth at the older woman in a twisted mockery of a smile.

“The final hurdle between me and Kouga finally shows her face...”  
“You will not keel Kouga!” The horrid man barked out a chilling laugh.  
“I already have. The former daimyo's body is being desecrated at this very moment- only fitting to show what few rats have survived thus far what their eventual fate will be.” Without warning, without even dropping his sneer, he charged at Megumi, raking the Flame shuriken he held across her face. The kunoichi managed to pull back enough to avoid serious injury, but as she cried out, it was clear he had struck true, blood oozing from her eye even though the flesh itself had been cauterized.

“Seiichi... run.”  
“But--”  
“ _NOW!!_ ” She screamed, lunging forward with her own kunai. Despite her speed and skill, the demon man would not be taken unawares. He dodged her attack and retaliated by smashing his elbow into the back of her skull, sending her to the ground.  
“Okaa-sama!” Tears burning his eyes and blurring his vision, Seiichi grabbed his own kunai, hands shaking so violently he could barely keep his grip on it. “L-leave my mother alone!!” The man looked down at him, his lip twisted into a distasteful scowl for a moment before curling back into a nauseating smile.

“Aww, what's this? Are you going to defend your mommy? Aren't you brave...?” Groaning, the woman on the ground tried to push herself back up, only to be kicked in the jaw and dropped once more. “Come on, little man. Be a hero.”  
“Ungh... Se-- Seii...chiro... run... pl-please....” He wanted to fight, to help his mother and prove that he was every bit a shinobi as his bloodline said he should be, but Seiichi found himself frozen with terror. He could not take one step in either direction, even as the horrible man began drawing closer, those cold, soulless eyes boring into him. A shuriken flew past his face, slicing deep enough into his skin that it caused him to stop for a moment, swearing as he clutched at the wound it left. The air beside the boy shimmered as a young man appeared seemingly from nothingness. Seiichi recognized him as one of his father's most trusted comrades, Mamarou-san. Clutching a kunai in one hand, he reached down and grabbed the boy's wrist with the other, tugging him back.

“This way, young master!” It took several long seconds spent stumbling before he realized the other man was pulling him away, away from his mother. He began struggling at once, trying to go back.   
“No! No, I have to help Okaa-sama!!”  
“You can help her by staying safe. Please, we must evacuate!!” There was no chance to argue- he was not strong enough to break free of his savior's grip, and had no choice but to break into a run.

The cherry blossoms that had once been in bloom were now withered and dying from the intense heat, some of the branches closest to the burning homes charred. The Mokushuujin seemed to be throwing ropes over the lower hanging branches, and Seiichi could not help but childishly wonder what they were planning on using them for. It almost reminded him of a rope swing... until he saw them tie one end of the ropes around the necks of the Kougan ninja they had defeated and pull, hauling them up until their feet could no longer touch the ground. They thrashed and kicked wildly, a macabre dance silhouetted by the flames surrounding them. The image burned itself into his eyes. He would never be rid of the vision of his people flailing as they died in terror.  
000

They came across less than a dozen survivors as they made their way to Shirasagi. Mostly other shinobi, the only ones who had been able to fight back long enough to escape the Mokushuujin. But there was no escaping them. Those vile monsters, who dared call themselves ninja, were everywhere. Kotaro, the devil who had overtaken the once peaceful province, would settle for nothing less than Kouga's complete destruction, which included every trace of it's people. Seiichi could only watch in misery and horror as the few remaining members of his homeland threw themselves at the Mokushuujin wolves so that the others could have time to escape. They all said the same thing, verbatim; they would be safe in Shirasagi. Their numbers dwindled so quickly... by the time Mamarou-san roughly pushed him forward, telling him to run while he stayed behind to fend off the mechanists with their yumi drawn, he had no will left to protest. He simply ran, hating himself, feeling like the biggest coward in the world. _He_ was the daimyo of Kouga now, he had to do everything he could for his people, but he could not even raise a hand to the monsters that tormented them.

Every tearful night he didn't sleep, every mile he dragged himself forward, he repeated everyone's hope, their prayer, to himself like a mantra. It would be safe in Shirasagi. Emperor Sumeragi would help him, he would send soldiers to drive the Mokushuujin back and the other survivors- there _had_ to be others, it _couldn't_ just be him, it _couldn't!!_ \- would return to Kouga and they would rebuild their home twice as grand. That singular thought was all that kept him going. When Seiichi arrived in the capital of Hoshido weeks later, it was like arriving in paradise. With bright blue skies and cherry blossoms still in bloom, it almost felt like being back home. He could see the massive castle, it's highest stories brushing the clouds, up ahead. At once, the pain and hunger and exhaustion fell away, replaced with the giddy joy of hope. He was finally there. He was finally safe, and everything would be made better now. Laughing deliriously, the young shinobi half stumbled, half crawled to the gates that led to the castle. He was so close-- A pair of crossed naginatas blocked his path, and he blinked in surprise, looking up to see the soldiers standing guard looking down at him with disgusted sneers twisting their lips.

“Beggars aren't allowed on the castle grounds. Be gone with you.” Taken aback, he drew himself up to his full height, swooning slightly. He was so tired, so hungry...  
“I-I am no beggar. I am Seiichi, of the Ashyura clan. My f-father was the daimyo of Kouga--” One of the guards scoffed.  
“Yeah, and I'm queen of the Flame tribe.”  
“I am!!” He cried out in frustration. The other guard scowled even darker and shoved the boy, knocking him to the ground.

“Your kind isn't welcome here. Away with you, peasant, before I make you regret it.” Angry, bitter tears choked him as he pushed himself back to his feet.  
“Please... the Mokushuujin... they came and burned my home to the ground. There are others, I'm sure of it. You have to help them... _please!!_ ” His tearful plea was met with a fist to the gut, which left him breathless, doubled over in agony.

“I warned you, did I not? I will not warn you again. Be gone from here.” Seiichi stumbled away in a painful, furious daze. The guards were no better than the Mokushuujin. Drunk on the tinniest hint of power, they were making up for their own insignificance by lording over someone they saw as below them. He would report them straight to the emperor as soon as he was able to. He knew his own father would've been furious to hear his guards were behaving in such a manner.

Unfortunately, it seemed he would not be able to see Sumeragi any time soon. Even when the castle guards changed shifts and he attempted to explain his circumstances to the new set, they brushed him off with the same contempt as their fellows had. The people of Shirasagi were no better. He had taken refuge in the town square, where at least there were stalls to sleep under, providing him with a modicum of protection from the chill at night. He tried to explain his situation to every person that passed. Some, mostly the middling class of merchants and shoppers, regarded him with a sense of pity at least, perhaps thinking he was a poor, delusional gutter snipe. They gave him sympathetic looks, and occasionally, a few coins, which he angrily threw back at them. He didn't want their money; he needed their help! The nobles were even worse, though. They drew away as soon as he came into their line of sight, eying him as though he were some kind of disgusting insect. At best, they walked away before he could even begin imploring them for their aid. Most of the time, however, they simply knocked him back physically, scornful that he would dare presume to approach them so readily. It was not at all like Kouga, where everyone was kind to everyone else. He was so far from home...

With every day that passed, he felt his hope slip further away. Was anyone even still alive? Or had they all been hunted down like animals? A sudden cheer pulled him from his half conscious daze. Getting to his unsteady feet, Seiichi peered out from the alley he had been resting in. There was a crowd gathered in the plaza, the murmur of excited voices melding together and blending into an irritating buzz. The hubbub must've been for someone important. Maybe another daimyo. The boy inhaled deeply, bolstering his courage. He would not be deterred. If it was someone who knew the emperor, perhaps he could explain everything to them, and have Sumeragi-sama find out that way. He hadn't known. Surely he hadn't known that the Mokushuujin had been as aggressive as they were, because if he had known, he would've sent help. His father's pleas for aid must not have come across as urgent enough. The Kougan boy pushed his way through the crowd, paying the dirty looks he got no mind as he squeezed past people's legs. When he finally reached a clearing, his mouth fell agape. It was the emperor himself. He had to be- he exuded such a commanding aura, demanding respect with but a single glance. At any other time, Seiichi would've been awed by the sight of his emperor, but at that moment, he was too delighted to do anything but rush forward. The ruler's guards raised their weapons at once, intending to protect their liege from any threat, no matter how unlikely, but he paid them no mind, falling to his knees before the emperor. It was a blessing by the gods, to finally be allowed to see the man who would make everything better.

“Sumeragi-sama...” He began breathlessly, raising his eyes just enough to see the older man gesture to his guards to lower their arms. “I am of the Ashyura clan. My father was the daimyo of Kouga.”  
“ _Was?_ ” Sumeragi's already stern face darkened further, and the boy nodded slowly.   
“I-- I believe... I fear he may have perished when the Mokushuujin invaded out home. They hounded what few survivors I came across.”  
“Kouga is home to plenty of well trained soldiers. It isn't Izumo; it should be able to protect it's own borders.” Seiichi looked up fully now, anger creeping in to his voice.

“They ambushed us! Sumeragi-sama, I _know_ there are other survivors. Please, you must help my people--”   
“Hoshido does not have the soldiers to spare to straighten out petty land disputes.” The boy blinked at the cold tone Sumeragi had taken. With his dark eyes and the curved horns that adorned his mengu, he looked almost as much a demon as Kotaro had. “Daimyos exist to govern their own lands, not come crawling to me to settle their arguments, _especially_ when more pressing matters are at hand. If you are the new daimyo of Kouga, Ashyura-san, then it falls to _you_ to help your people. _I_ shall help the people of Hoshido by leading our soldiers to victory against the anyan devils that try to force us to heel!” He raised his voice, directing the last part of his rant to the people amassed in the crowd. They rallied behind his words, cheering and chanting and decrying the Nohrians. It was without a second glance to the boy still kneeling on the hard cobblestone street that the emperor and his retinue continued forward, the crowd parting to let him through before closing once more.

Slowly, with the reason they had gathered in the first place no longer there to keep their interest, the people of Shirasagi began to dissipate. Soon, Seiichi was the only one that was left, still on his knees, exactly as Sumeragi had left him. Everything blurred as his eyes welled with tears, tears that dripped onto his chest every time he blinked. Everyone had been so, so wrong. There was no sanctuary to be found in Shirasagi. The emperor personally washed his hands of the matter, caring nothing for the lives that had been lost, still claiming the Nohrians were the only threat they faced. What did Nohrians matter when _Hoshidans_ were slaughtering each other in droves? Curling into a tight ball, the boy wept softly. He had tried so hard to do the only thing he could, and even that had been for nothing. There was no hope for his homeland now. Kouga would die with him. _'I'm so sorry, Otou-sama... I failed you... I failed Kouga...'_  
000

That night, he had somehow found the strength to crawl back under one of the merchant stalls, where he promptly collapsed and began waiting for death. There was nothing else he _could_ do anymore. It would've much easier had there not still been people lingering round the bazaar, talking in hushed voices. Though they spoke so no one else could hear, Seiichi's finely honed ears caught their words.

“Sumeragi is all talk. We've won all of one battle, and that was a fluke more than anything.”  
“Shh! Be careful where you say things like that; the royal family has eyes and ears everywhere, and you know the price for treason.”  
“I also know Nohr has an armada that rivals the entirety of the royal army. Mark my words; Sumeragi is only delaying the inevitable. This war will go to Nohr.”

“Have you so little faith in your motherland?”  
“ _I_ can see the writing on the wall. Mark my words...” Seiichi frowned at their words. He remembered his father complaining about rumors like this, saying that it was wrong for people to doubt their country, their leader... but his father was dead now. His mother as well, probably. Maybe they had even been strung up in the cherry blossom trees as decorations for their murderers to laugh at. Their country didn't care. Their emperor didn't care. A long time ago, the thought of Nohr conquering Hoshido would've filled him with dread. But they couldn't be worse than Mokushuu. Maybe when _his_ people were chased down and hacked to bloody pieces, Sumeragi would understand.

It was said that Nohr was a savage land filled with inhuman barbarians, but since he had arrived in the capital, no one had treated him as human either. Maybe he would fit in well in Nohr. At the very least, it would put a good deal of distance between him and Mokushuu. That alone made the thought more enticing. Seiichi sat up as best as he able under the dark stall. He was the daimyo of a land that no longer existed. Not now, at least. It could be rebuilt- _he_ could rebuild it. But not here, not now... not in Hoshido. If he was going to live in a land that didn't care about his people, he certainly wasn't going to allow himself to be reminded of his family's legacy of service to it's wicked ruler. He would figure out some way to get to Nohr, even if he had to walk all the way there. And then, he'd do something. _Anything_ would be better than being surrounded by the excess of those who cared nothing for losses that didn't affect them personally.

Sumeragi had called him Ashyura-san. Yes. That was who he was now. Seiichi was a child who had been destroyed by the callousness of cruel men. From that day on, he would be his people's, his family's, legacy.

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“ _For the sun to rot, for the tree to drop. Here's a strange and bitter crop...”_  
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A/N- Okay, _this_ is the kind of crap I write when I'm sick and half asleep. I was inspired by “Strange Fruit”, specifically, the Siouxsie and the Banshees cover. I know Sumeragi is a total dickwad in this... and that's because, it's fucking canon. I shit you not, these are Shura's actual words from his chapter in Birthright- “I was a child... Chased from my homeland and separated from the other survivors. Even as a refugee, I was denied entry to Hoshido. So I wound up in Nohr. I was exiled and alone.” Given that he was a child when that happened, but must've been at least a teenager when he helped kidnap Azura, Kouga must've fallen prior to Sumeragi's death. In which case, _who else_ could've denied him entry to Hoshido? (I say Shirasagi because in TRNT's universe, the entire eastern half of the continent is “Hoshido”) I flat out refuse to believe Sumeragi ( _or_ Mikoto) is the saint he's portrayed as. And as for Shura having a name, again, in TRNT, he informs Nerr that Ashyura is his (ninja) clan's name, and he goes by Shura for short. I decided to make it a Saizou thing, wherein he takes the family name when he becomes the head of the family (or in this case, the only member of the family)


End file.
